This morning I spoke at meeting to deliver a vocal ministry that, once it had fully formed in my consciousness, I knew would likely not be received with accolades. Because I believe that the only way to keep forward progress and to foster growth is to at times make light of hard truths, I did not sugarcoat my message. Having been raised in a Christ-centered tradition that was decidedly not Quaker, I recall many sermons over the years designed to call out the congregation when they had gone astray. As such, I am a firm believer that criticism can be constructive and is not uniformly destructive in nature, even when the words themselves make waves and challenge assumptions. This may have been my background, but I came to understand that it was not the reference point that many fellow Friends in attendance understood. I fault them not for this.
Perhaps I should qualify that I use as my guide the words, wisdom, and intent of Jesus. They are, as I understand them, rarely, if ever, composed of feel-good platitudes or self-congratulatory statements. Some of them were highly inflammatory in their day and when one contemplates the sum of their impact, one can hardly fail to recognize why Jesus was eventually crucified. He had quite a knack for enraging the powers that be and making absolutely no attempt to smooth over his lessons and teachings with anything resembling tact or diplomacy. Though we, in my humble opinion, ought to consider him a hero, he was a rabble-rouser in his day and in our time, those who threaten the establishment enough usually pay for it with their very lives. Jesus did not coddle anyone and neither do I.
What spurred me to speak this morning is a phenomenon that I see in liberal, often unprogrammed Quakerism. I suppose if I were to be completely honest, I could expand the scope to include many people I have known who are members of religious liberal faith groups who place a particular emphasis on social justice. Specifically regarding the Young Friends I often encounter in my own life, far too many often qualify as trust fund hippies and believers in a kind of masturbatory idealism. I have noticed this same basic principle and result among the graduates of blue state, ivory tower elite institutions, many of which proceed from Quaker schools beginning at the elementary grades through high school (schools rarely known for providing inexpensive tuition) then directly to the activist liberal arts college or university of their choice. The irony in their thin-skinned perspectives is that we know that politics and social justice movements lob criticism and righteous indignation salvos from all sides at a multitude of worthy targets, and yet they themselves are often so hyper-sensitive that they cannot distinguish criticism as a means of growth and development from criticism clearly designed to wound and eviscerate. This sadly includes many movements from within progressive circles, whose inability to make badly needed change and whose indebtedness to basking in the afterglow of past victories render them more and more redundant with every passing moment.
There are often vast difference between those of us who are Convinced Friends and have converted from other faiths versus those who were born into the faith. In short, converts like me take the particulars very seriously and devote much time towards learning them. I have noticed an often depressing trend of Young Friends whose devotion to the faith of their birth peters out at high school and rarely returns. Likewise, I have noticed that those fortunate enough to have wealthy parents or to achieve a scholarship to a Quaker school may have fond memories of the experience, but they seem to rarely share it openly with the rest of the world. One would hope that schools bearing our name might instruct those who attend with all the particulars that go along with the Religious Society of Friends but I find that many retain only the most basic of Quaker tenets while placing more of an emphasis upon liberal virtues like environmentalism or multiculturalism. If one attends a Catholic school, I know for a fact that one learns the ins and outs of Catholicism. Why don't we insist upon the same thing in our own institutions?
This was my implication, but to say it did not go over well would be an understatement. By the end, I wished I could have stood again to recite a few pithy passages from T.S. Eliot
“That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.”
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.